I'll Be Okay
by Potato19
Summary: Just a little one shot of what could have happened after Ron left during the Hunt.


Disclaimer: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Harry Potter Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

 **I'll Be Okay**

Hermione Granger sighed at the pitiful picture in front of her. Her reflection was definitely quite the sight but Hermione had no will to do anything about it. What was the point anyway? It wasn't as if anyone would see her.

Hermione paused.

Okay, well, Harry would see her, and she suspected that she was terrifying him with all her crying. She could feel his eyes on her, silently asking questions to which she had no answers. She wouldn't be able to explain herself to him because even she didn't understand what she was feeling.

She knew she was angry, and definitely disappointed but it wasn't the first time she'd felt these feelings. If she thought about it critically, she would claim that everything about the situation wasn't at all surprising.

Sure, Hermione could have made excuses for Ron but she decided not to. They all knew that it wouldn't be easy, and it definitely wasn't Harry's fault that Dumbledore hadn't given him more information on Voldemort or the Horcruxes.

But, what really seemed to be bothering Hermione was that Ron was right about one thing, at least. The git. Hermione _chose Harry_. Hermione would never not choose him, over anyone. And, now that that truth was known, they all had to deal with it. Whatever that meant for their currently perilous trio.

Hermione let out another sigh as she splashed her face. She had to pull herself together. If not for herself, then for Harry.

When Hermione left the bathroom, she was surprised to find Harry sitting at their work table with several books open in front of him. He didn't look to be reading anything but she appreciated that he appeared to be trying. This Hunt probably meant more to him than she would ever begin to understand.

"Good morning," she said, sliding onto the bench across the table from him.

Harry looked up, smiling ever so slightly. Then, at the sight of her puffy eyes, his smile faded. "Hi," he breathed. "Umm, how did you sleep?"

Hermione did not want to lie to him, but she also didn't want to worry him. "I slept," she decided to say. "What are you reading about there?"

It seemed like a surprise to him when she mentioned what he appeared to be doing, and he laughed to himself. He rubbed the back of his head and rested his palm on the back of his neck. "Oh, well, umm," he stuttered; "I was just looking."

"Did you find anything interesting?"

"Not really," he admitted. "But I did learn a few things about Healing from this book over here," he said, gesturing to a book on his right.

"Spells?"

He nodded. "A pain relieving one and one to diminish bruising. It's supposed to target the muscles or something."

She smiled at him. "Are you intending to do something that is going to require these spells?"

He blushed slightly. "Maybe."

"What is it, Harry?"

He took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself for what he was about to say to her. Hermione just knew she wasn't going to like it. He wasn't even looking at her and that was all the indication she needed.

"You know that I need you," he said calmly, momentarily stilling her heart. "I will always need you, especially for all of this; but I cannot handle knowing that you are so miserable."

Hermione was geared up to protest but he just raised a hand to keep her quiet.

"I hear you crying, Hermione, and it breaks my heart every time. I don't want this for you, so I'm telling you that it's okay."

"Harry?" she croaked.

"It's okay for you to go to him," he tried to say as casually as he could, but his voice cracked halfway through the sentence. "I don't want you to hurt, not when it's my fault. I want you to be happy and, if you want to go to him, you should go. I'll be okay."

Without her say so, Hermione started to cry. If she thought that Ron's leaving broke her heart, this was worse. This was so much worse.

At her tears, Harry started to panic. "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes widening. "I probably should have told you sooner, but I was just being selfish," he rushed. "I'm sorry."

She wiped at her eyes. "Why are _you_ sorry?" she managed to ask.

He shook his head. "I don't want to make you feel obligated to stay here. I don't want to make it so unbearable for you that you start to resent me; even hate me. I could never survive that, Hermione. I could never handle having you leave the way that Ron did so I'm telling you, right now, that's it's okay if you want to go. I'll be okay."

"Stop," she said, needing him to cease all talking.

"I just -" he tried to continue.

"Shut up, Harry," she snapped. "Just stop talking, will you?"

He pressed his lips together, looking thoroughly chastised. He appeared hurt by her outburst and she didn't blame him.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I just, I can't think when you're talking."

Harry said nothing, his heart thumping in his chest at the possibility of her actually leaving.

"Do you want me to go?" Hermione asked carefully.

He blinked. "Don't you want to go?"

"Is that what you think?"

"What am I supposed to think?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers. "We barely talk, because I have no idea what to say to you, and you can barely look at me half the time."

"Harry?"

He took a deep breath, watching her carefully. "I promise I won't hold it against you," he said softly, truthfully. Because he wouldn't. This Hunt wasn't for everyone and, unlike him, she had a choice. "I know of your loyalty, and I appreciate you for it but your broken heart isn't worth what I need or want right now. I'll find a way. I'll be okay."

Hermione stared at him for quite some time, noticing the determination on his face. Clearly, he had spent quite some time thinking about this. And, everything he was saying was coming from a place of love. She knew Harry enough to know how self-sacrificing he was.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

Hermione could tell that he was afraid of something. Her reaction, maybe, or her leaving. Both.

"I just had to tell you," he finished, dropping his gaze back down to the books in front of him.

Hermione took a moment to wrap her mind around what was happening. Harry thought she regretted her decision to stay. Her actions made him think that, and she suddenly felt incredibly guilty.

Without saying a word, Hermione stood up and walked around the table. She sat down next to him before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly. She placed her mouth close to his ear to whisper words that made him shiver.

"If I chose you over my parents, what makes you think I would ever choose Ron over you?"

"Hermione," he breathed.

"I'll never leave you, Harry," she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear.

Harry shifted in her embrace, pulling back so he could look at her. "But you're miserable," he pointed out.

She ran a slow hand through his hair, and smiled slightly when he closed his eyes at her touch. "I'm not miserable," she told him softly. "I'm just," she hesitated. "Truthfully, I don't know what I am, but I can assure you that I don't regret my decision to stay."

"You don't?" he asked quietly, sounding like a little boy.

"I don't," she said strongly. "I'm here, with you and, together, we'll figure this out."

He swallowed. "You don't want to go?"

"I don't want to go."

"Do you miss him?"

"Do you?"

Harry let out a small breath. "I don't know if it makes me a bad person or not but I'm a little relieved that he's not here," he admitted, dropping his gaze. He didn't want to see her reaction to his confession.

"It doesn't make you a bad person," she said, running her hand through his hair once more.

Harry felt that he still had to explain himself. "I just, well, I feel calmer somehow, lighter."

"Ron was giving off bad energy," she said, trying to and succeeding in making him feel better about his own opinions. "He was not conducive to what we're trying to accomplish here."

"Which is?" he felt he had to ask.

That had her stumped for a moment, so she absently played with tufts of his hair while she thought. "We're trying to figure out what and where to find the other Horcruxes."

"That's it?" Harry asked, smirking slightly.

She returned his smile, feeling relieved that potential crisis was averted. She kept her fingers in his hair, mainly because she could tell that he liked it. She made a mental note never to allow him to let her cut his hair ever again.

"I made breakfast," Harry said after a while, deciding it was time to break their silence. "Well, it's just porridge," he elaborated. "Nothing special."

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked, finding that she didn't actually want to move from their position. She still had her fingers of her one hand in his hair and her other hand was resting on his forearm. Harry had one of his hands on her knee and it was as if it was burning her skin through the denim of her jeans.

"No," he informed her; "I was waiting for you."

Hermione's face broke out into a wide smile, and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "I'll dish up then," she said as she stood up, using his shoulder for leverage.

Before she could remove it, Harry grabbed hold of her hand and brought her palm towards his mouth, placing a chaste kiss against her skin. "I'm really glad you're staying," he said quietly, not looking at her. "I really don't know what I would do without you."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, trying to keep a check on her emotions. She cupped his face with her hands and kissed the top of his head. She didn't trust herself to speak so she didn't.

She let go of him, let out a small sigh, and then walked towards the small room they called a kitchen. On the stove, she found a small pot of white porridge. She was surprised when her stomach growled. How hungry was she? When was the last time she'd eaten?

Hermione found two plates and expertly dished out the porridge for them both. It wasn't fine dining but it was better than nothing. She took out a teaspoon from one of the drawers and dropped a dollop of their precious honey onto each plate. She could at least make it a little _finer_.

Hermione popped two tablespoons into her pocket and picked up the two plates. When she turned towards Harry, she paused at the sight before her.

Harry was poring over a page, a pencil tucked behind his ear, and Hermione couldn't have stopped her smile if she tried. She watched as he quickly removed the pencil from behind his ear and scribbled something down on a piece of parchment.

As if sensing her eyes on him, he looked up at her, frowning slightly. "Everything okay?" he asked.

The sound of his voice got her moving and he moved several books out of the way to make room for their plates.

Hermione sat down right beside him, subconsciously needing to be near him. They'd spent enough time avoiding each other.

Harry looked at her. "Did you forget spoons?"

"No," she said, playfully glaring at him as she removed the spoons from her pocket. "And, if I had, would you have gone to get them?" she asked pointedly as she handed him one of the spoons.

Harry looked right into her eyes as he spoke, his hand closing around the handle of the spoon: "I would do anything for you, Hermione."

She swallowed hard, feeling heat rise up her neck.

Harry removed the spoon from her hold and proceeded to stir his bit of honey into his porridge. He felt Hermione watch him for a moment before she too started on her breakfast.

"I noticed that you were writing something down," Hermione said, breaking their silence.

"Oh, I was just making a list," Harry informed her.

"Of?"

"What we know for sure is a Horcrux, what we think is a Horcrux, and how each of them was destroyed."

She looked at him, silently asking the question.

Harry knew to explain. "I figure that, seeing as we already know how two of them were destroyed; maybe we can try to emulate Dumbledore's method, without the whole injuring your hand thing, because it isn't as if we have the Sword of Gryffindor with us, right?"

She stared at him for a moment, wondering where this Harry had come from. She knew, without his having to say anything, that his increased input and interest was his way of somehow proving himself to her.

"Unless," he said, giving her his patented lopsided grin; "I mean, I don't suppose you've got a Basilisk fang in that oh so sexy bag of yours, do you?"

Hermione's blush was fierce, and she couldn't even figure out what had set it off. His words or his smile. Perhaps both.

It took Hermione almost thirty seconds to recover. "I don't," she said calmly. She leaned away from him slightly, finding his proximity intoxicating. "But it's definitely a place to start."

His eyes widened. "You want to go to Hogwarts?" he asked, because they both knew where the Basilisk was. And they both knew that the Sword was in the Headmaster's office. _Snape's_ office.

She thought about it for a moment. "I have a sneaking suspicion that there may be a Horcrux there," she admitted. "And, wouldn't you want to see Ginny?"

Harry tensed at her side and she gave him a worried look.

"What?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "I think Hogwarts will have to be our endgame," he said, ignoring her question of his disposition. "I get the feeling that, once we show up, he will too."

Hermione wanted to wipe the slight crease above his brow away but she kept her hands to herself.

"And," he said, risking a look at her; "I kind of don't want to see Ginny."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say to that so she just allowed him to continue.

"I care about her, I do," he said. "I'm definitely worried about her being at Hogwarts, but that's probably safer than out here with us." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't miss her," he admitted. "I just, I'm glad that she's not here right now, and it scares me that I'm able to survive without her."

Hermione took a breath. "Why does it scare you so much?"

"Because I know that I wouldn't be able to survive without _you_. And _that_ terrifies me."

She just stared at him, her eyes wide. "But you just said that I could go; that you would be okay."

Harry dropped his head.

"You lied." It was a statement, not a question. "Why would you do that?"

"Why else?" he asked quietly. "I want you to be happy, Hermione, even if that's not with me."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him. He was saying so much and still saying nothing that she didn't already know. "But I am happy with you," she said seriously. "I just forgot how to be."

"And you'll feel a little guilty if you were, wouldn't you?"

"Are we allowed to be happy with him gone?" she asked, wondering aloud.

"You never did answer me when I asked if you missed him," he pointed out.

Hermione took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Not him, exactly," she admitted. "I suppose I miss _us_. The three of us. The way things used to be before all of this. Does that make sense?"

"You mean before the Hunt?"

"I mean before all of it," she said, sighing. "Everything just became so hard, you know?"

"I don't really remember a time that was easy," he said, risking a smile.

"There was," she said, returning his smile. "I'm sure of it."

"Name one," he countered playfully.

"Okay, umm, what about that time when we... Oh wait, that didn't end well." She bit at her bottom lip and Harry couldn't look away from her. He'd even go so far as to think that he wanted to be the one to be biting her lip for her.

Whoa.

Harry's eyes widened for a moment, but he was surprisingly calm about it. It wasn't anything that he couldn't accept.

"I know," Hermione said, grabbing his forearm. "Oh wait," she said, sighing again. "That wasn't all that great either."

"We'll be here a long time, Hermione," he said kindly, trying his best not to react to the fact that she was touching him, and looking at him like _that_.

"Well, I know that we have had some good and easy times," she assured him. "I just can't think of them right now."

"And that doesn't tell you something?"

"It tells me that, yes, things have been hard, which means that we have to hold onto the small moments; cherish them for what they are."

He smiled at her. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Every day, for at least half an hour, you and I are going to forget that we're on a deadly hunt, and just enjoy our time together, okay?"

Hermione looked a bit skeptical.

"Just for a half hour, Hermione," he reiterated. "For that bit of time, we get to talk about unimportant things that don't even compare to what we're trying to do right now. I think it will be good for our mental health, you know?"

It was another moment until she nodded. "Okay."

He grinned at her. "Okay."

"Now finish up your porridge so we can get started on the real reason we're here."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Hermione just shook her head at his antics. To be honest, she felt rather winded. So much had been said and decided just in this morning and it was just now hitting her.

She spent the day in a bit of a daze, and Harry kept casting her looks that were both confused and amused. He knew he'd struck something in her but neither of them knew quite what.

It took them both a while to get used to their set aside half-hours but they were trying. Harry wanted her to be happy and he took it upon himself to make that half-hour the greatest thirty minutes of her day.

Hermione took even more time to get comfortable with abandoning her research for any amount of time, but she did and her normal excitement over the most arbitrary things was back in full force.

Harry would just sit there and stare at her, pretending to listen. She had to get used to his eyes on her, because he always looked particularly fascinated, though she wasn't sure why.

Well, she didn't until he told her. Or, rather, he _showed_ her.

She was just talking, her mouth running away, trying to keep up with her thoughts when, suddenly, she stopped, her cheeks burning red.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You aren't even listening, are you?"

"I'm trying," Harry admitted. "It's just that I'm finding you a little too distracting right now."

"Distracting?"

He nodded, looking and feeling rather bewildered. "Your eyes," he said, "and your lips. The sound of your voice. I just, _all of it_ , it's so damn fascinating."

"Harry," she breathed, blushing.

"I'm sorry, go on," he said, waving his hand for her to continue. "I am listening."

Hermione hesitated for but a moment before she continued with her tirade about Merlin knows what.

Harry couldn't have stopped himself, even if he tried. He was just watching her and he just had to kiss her. He had to, or he was certain he would die.

So he did.

Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, silencing her mid-sentence. He was buoyed by the fact that she didn't push him away, but she also didn't necessarily kiss him back.

Hermione was too surprised to do anything.

Harry pulled back eventually and resumed his position as if nothing had happened. "I'm sorry," he said, waving his hand for her to continue like he did before. "Please go on. I really am listening."

She didn't move a muscle, her body paralyzed and her mind reeling.

"You were saying something about the way that -"

She cut him off. "Why did you do that?"

"Why did I do what?"

"Kiss me."

"Because I desperately wanted to," he said seriously. "And I want to do it again."

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I should have asked for permission."

"And if I hadn't given it to you?"

"Then I might have died."

She laughed. She actually laughed out loud at that and it was the most perfect sound he'd ever heard.

"You're not mad, are you?"

"A little stunned, but not mad, no," she informed him. "I'm just disappointed that I wasn't able to participate fully."

For a moment, he was confused. Then he grinned, his heart rate rising dangerously.

Hermione cupped his face with her hands, making him look at her. "You're very special, Harry Potter."

Harry had no words, and his brain completely failed him when it was Hermione who leaned forward to kiss him. Everything he'd ever known about everything in his life suddenly seemed so unimportant. He was kissing Hermione and she was kissing him back.

Harry stupidly thought that his life was now complete; that all the anguish, pain and every other emotion paled in comparison to this. Everyone else, everywhere else; they were utterly irrelevant and always would be, as long as he had Hermione in his arms. It was a dangerous thought, given what was now expected of him but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Hermione pulled away first, breathing hard. "Hi," she whispered, smiling happily.

"Hi."

She dropped her hands from around his neck - Harry didn't even realize she'd put them there - and settled them on her own lap, looking at him.

Harry wasn't sure what to say; what he _could_ say. They'd been teetering on the edge of this change for quite some time and, now that they'd kissed, things changed. Right?

Or they didn't.

On the next beat, Hermione continued with her little monologue about nothing important and Harry was content to continue to watch her, trying his best to listen.

And so it went. That, Harry supposed, was the best part of his relationship with Hermione. They were friends first and the fact that they now kissed and all the good stuff, changed nothing. They were still exactly the same.

They didn't talk about Ron. Harry mentioned him once in a story he was retelling during one of their half-hours and things had become so tense; Harry didn't do it again. They slept in the same bed for the first time that same night. They didn't discuss it; they just did it. And, when Harry woke up with Hermione Granger in his arms, he wouldn't want to sleep any other way ever again.

When he told her, all she did was smile, and then kiss him. Hermione liked to kiss him, mainly because he always looked completely bewildered afterwards; like he was always surprised that he was the one she wanted to kiss.

They spent their days doing the same things: researching, discussing, sometimes laughing and definitely kissing. Even though they weren't exactly making headway in the Hunt, they weren't allowing it to get them down. There was no exact timeline on their success but, the longer they took, the more people were likely to die. Harry wouldn't allow himself to forget that.

It was Harry who first mentioned visiting Godric's Hollow, and Hermione was inclined to agree with him, though she did get him to try to convince her. It was amazing what he could make her feel when his mouth was pressed against hers.

It was an emotional trip for both of them. For Harry, he visited his parents for the very first time and his reaction tore through her own heart. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him cry but it was the first time he'd cried _this way_ in front of her. It was easier to comfort him this time, without Ron around to watch them and get jealous of how close they were. She held him in her arms and whispered soothing words into his ear, being there for him the way that only she could.

And then, well, the emotional night took an even more drastic turn.

For Hermione, it'd been worse than the moment that they first moved from the place that Ron had left them. This time, instead of Hermione facing the potential loss of Ron; she was facing the permanent loss of Harry, and that was more terrifying than facing her own death.

Getting the two of them out of the house had Hermione in such a panic that, when she was seeing to his injury, and watching him writhing in pain; she did the unthinkable and told him that she loved him. Well, she practically screamed it at him - several times - and, after he'd quieted and fallen into a deep slumber, she panicked at just _how_ she had meant it. They were definitely beyond friendship by now.

The word 'love' wasn't just a word you threw around; and especially not with Harry Potter. She just hoped that he hadn't heard her, just so that they could avoid the awkwardness of a response, or lack thereof.

Hermione's panic only grew when it took Harry two full days to wake up. He was groggy and completely confused at first, which she found terribly adorable. He didn't seem to remember what had happened, which was both a relief and a disappointment to Hermione.

He was quiet when she explained what had happened as they sat by the fire just outside the tent, and he'd barely said a word when she told him about his wand. He'd just stared at her, taking it all in.

Then, surprising her, he asked, "Have you slept?"

"What?"

"Sleep, Hermione. When was the last time you slept?"

"Umm..."

Harry slowly stood up and put out his hand. "Come on," he said softly. "You need to get some sleep."

Hermione didn't argue with him as she allowed him to pull her up. Once they were safely inside again, Harry surprised her once more by climbing into bed with her and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. How he knew that she needed to be with him, she'd never know.

"I'm sorry I took so long to wake up," he whispered into her hair. "I didn't want to leave you alone for such a long time."

"It's okay," she assured him, her heart beating a mile a minute. She was just so glad he was awake, and he was here with her. "I know that you needed the time to recover."

"I dreamt about you," he admitted.

"A good dream? Bad dream?" She giggled. "Or are you about to tell me that it was a _dirty_ dream?"

He held her tighter. "It was a good one," he informed her. "It was about a time in our future, when all this is over. It was just you and me and we were happy. Merlin, I don't think I could have been any happier."

His words were doing nothing to calm her racing heart.

"I just thought that you should know that, when all this is over, whatever happens between now and then; you and I will find a way to be happy. We'll be okay."

Hermione closed her eyes and snuggled in closer to him, needing the warmth of him.

"Together," he added after a while, and her breath hitched. She could practically feel him smiling. "Get some sleep, Hermione," he instructed gently.

Then, just as she was on the brink of unconsciousness, he surprised her once more. "And, in case you were wondering, I did hear you. It was kind of hard not to, given that you were screaming it at me." He dropped his voice down to a whisper: "I love you too."

That was it. There is was, and Hermione was too much of a coward to say anything. She remained completely still, faking sleep even though she knew that he knew she wasn't asleep yet. Her breathing was too erratic for that.

Harry fell asleep soon after that, leaving Hermione with her whirlwind of thoughts. What was supposed to happen now? How did they just move on from their declarations? Did they?

It took Hermione nearly two hours to fall asleep, and it was a rather restless sleep. She woke up several times, and it took the knowledge that Harry was still beside her to keep her calm.

He loved her.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from thinking about Ginny, which invariably made her think about Ron. And those thoughts made her feel an entire host of emotions: guilt, worry, fear. But none of those feelings quite compared to the amazing reality that he loved _her_.

Harry loved her, _Hermione_ , and that bloody well just screwed everything up, didn't it?

When Harry woke up in the morning, Hermione was staring up at the ceiling, her eyes relatively unfocused.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly, wary of disrupting her reverie.

Hermione took her time turning her head to look at him. "I meant it, you know?" she said, almost in a whisper. "When I said it, I meant it, Harry."

"I know," he said, also in a whisper. "I meant it too, Hermione. I love you."

Her breath hitched again at the sound of that, and she closed her eyes. "I wouldn't have said it if you weren't dying," she explained to him, turning to face him as her eyes opened again. "I didn't even know what I felt until it was happening, and the last thing I wanted to do was give you anything more to worry about."

He blinked at her, slightly confused. "But you meant it?"

"I did," she said, nodding. "I do, and I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I didn't mean to feel all of this," she explained. "We have other things to deal with, other than our changing feelings."

"And we will," he said calmly. "But we can talk about this right now. Do you want to take it back?"

"No."

"Then know that I meant it too," he said, his hand reaching up to touch her cheek. "It doesn't have to change anything, Hermione. The goals are still the same, okay? We're still Harry and Hermione, and we're still going to save the world."

"I love you."

He smiled at her, his eyes shining with his emotions. "How often are you going to say it?"

"Whenever you want me to."

Harry shifted closer to her and kissed her forehead. "I'll tell you every day," he assured her.

"And I'll tell you that I think it's time you had a shower," she said, pushing him away. "I'll make some breakfast."

Harry kissed her forehead again before he rolled out of bed and stretched. He turned and caught her staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"I love you."

Despite herself, Hermione blushed a deep red, and she lifted the covers over her head so that he couldn't see.

Harry just laughed, knowing full well what she was trying to do. "I'll see you in a bit."

When he was gone, Hermione also rolled out of bed, unable and unwilling to drop her smile.

Hermione spent the entire day with that goofy smile on her face. Even when they were supposed to be researching. Even when she and Harry were discussing Gregorovich and even when Harry told her that he remembered seeing that strange symbol on a necklace Luna's father had been wearing at the wedding.

Hermione couldn't wait for their half-hour and she called time on it just an hour after they'd eaten dinner. She practically pounced on him, ready to pick his brain about what he was feeling.

Harry leaned back against the backrest of the old armchair he was in and laughed. "You want me to talk about my feelings? I thought these half-hours were for unimportant things."

"Just tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"What you feel."

Harry reached for her hands and pulled her onto his lap. "I feel... I feel happy."

Hermione kissed him.

"I feel calm, and I feel loved."

Hermione kissed him again, letting her lips linger on his.

"And I feel that anything is possible right now," he said against her.

"Like what?"

"Like I could tell you I love you and you wouldn't run for the hills, screaming."

"I wouldn't have ever done that," she admonished him. "We would have had a very calm conversation about it."

"Would you still love me if Ron were still here?"

Hermione stiffened against him before she leaned back slightly to sit up straight. "Harry?"

He blinked. "I'm sorry, but I can't help thinking it."

"Well, would you still love me if Ron were still here?"

"Yes," he answered simply.

"And if Ginny were here?"

His features darkened. "She's not, Hermione, and neither is Ron. We both know that it makes all the difference."

"So maybe it does," she said, frowning. "Maybe things would be different if Ron was still here, or if we weren't on the run. None of it matters, right? Because it is what it is, Harry. We're in this situation and now I know; now _we_ know."

"I love you."

Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to get used to hearing him say the words and she was convinced she never wanted to. Without saying a word, Hermione leaned into him again and proceeded to kiss him until their half-hour ran up.

Even then, Harry's hands didn't leave her body, and she was more than happy to remain where she was. She ended up straddling him, her fingers in his hair and her heart in his hands.

Harry was the one to cool things off, pulling back and taking in several deep breaths. "We should get some fresh air," he suggested.

Hermione was slightly disappointed but she agreed with him. When she looked at him, she noticed that a few of his shirt buttons were undone, and she couldn't even recall how that had happened.

"Oh, don't look so innocent," Harry said, giving her a lopsided grin. "You know what you were doing, busy rocking against me like that."

Hermione's blush was deep, and she quickly got up off of him.

Harry was still smiling as he closed his buttons and stood up. "It's not as if I'm complaining," he informed her, his eyes giving away his obvious amusement. "I just don't think I would be able to stop myself if your hands got anywhere near my skin."

Hermione just nodded as she straightened her own self out. "So, that walk?"

Harry moved off to the side to get their coats before they left the tent, walking hand in hand. They strolled about in the cold night air, neither of them finding the need to talk. This was a moment to just be with each other after all the excitement.

She had to know that life with Harry Potter was full of surprises and endless excitement.

Hermione noticed it first. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

Hermione pointed into the distance. "It looks like a Patronus, Harry."

Harry stared into the distance and, indeed, there it was. A Patronus. "It's a doe," Harry said softly, his heart stilling. "It's a doe, Hermione."

Hermione gripped his arm. "We're going to follow it, aren't we?"

"We can't not, can we?"

Hermione was inclined to agree and, together, they followed the doe as it led them away from their tent and out of their wards. Harry gripped Hermione's wand tightly as they walked side by side. Hermione just knew that this night was going to turn into something ugly.

Sometimes, Hermione hated being right.

In the end, it didn't turn out terribly. Neither of them died, which was a feat in itself, and they somehow managed to destroy the locket. _That_ had been ugly. Hermione hated that he now knew of her fears; but she also knew of his. And it broke her heart to know that he was afraid that she would change her mind about him if ever Ron returned.

Hermione didn't have the chance to reassure Harry before Ron did make his fateful return, emerging from within the trees. In the darkness of the night, he appeared out of nowhere, after all the drama Harry and Hermione had just gone through with the locket and the sword. Harry stunned him without warning, thinking he was a Snatcher. In Harry's defense, it was dark, and he also didn't have his glasses on. They'd flown off when the Sword connected with the locket.

Not that Ron had much room to complain anyway.

Hermione was frozen for a moment, looking between the unconscious Ron and the shivering Harry. She remained rooted to the spot, her eyes staying on Harry eventually.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked Harry.

"My glasses," he said. "Do you see them?"

Hermione walked a few metres to her right, retrieved his glasses, and then walked towards him. She handed him the glasses before she ran a hand through his wet hair. "Shall I perform a Drying Charm?"

"Please," he said, his teeth chattering.

Hermione was quick with her wand, taking it from him before drying and warming him. "Get dressed, Harry," she instructed. "I'll see to Ron."

Harry merely nodded as he turned away, unsure how he felt about all that had happened. That locket definitely gave him a lot to think about. So did Ron's return. Harry quickly pulled on his trousers and then his jumper, still shivering. But it definitely wasn't from the cold.

Harry only turned back when he felt a small hand on his shoulder. "He's awake, Harry," Hermione said.

"I don't want to talk to him," Harry said simply, keeping his eyes focused away from her.

"Fine," she said just as simply. "But can we go back inside? You'll catch a cold if we stay out here."

Harry didn't move. "Did you tell him?" he asked softly.

Hermione hesitated. "I just _Enervated_ him," she said. "I haven't spoken to him yet, and he's barely said a word either."

"Are you going to tell him?" he asked.

"I thought maybe we could do it together," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"It's going to be bad, isn't it?" he said softly. "He'll hate me."

"He'll have to get over it," Hermione said, squeezing his shoulder. "I love _you_. Please don't doubt it. The only way we're going to get through all of this is if you remember that, okay?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Okay."

Hermione's hand worked its way down from his shoulder, along his arm, until her fingers were entwined with his. She stood right beside him, squeezing his hand as tightly as she could without hurting him.

"We should go," Hermione said.

Harry didn't move. "Just, umm, can we just wait here a moment? It's so peaceful."

Hermione moved in that bit closer to him, practically pressing herself into his side. If Ron was watching them now, they probably wouldn't actually have to _tell_ him anything. "I love you," she whispered.

"Keep saying it," he said softly.

After what she'd seen of his fears, she probably wouldnt ever stop. "I'm scared of losing you too," she said.

"I saw."

"We'll be okay, right?"

This time, Harry squeezed her hand. "We destroyed a Horcrux. We're going to get there some day."

"For a second there, I thought you were going to lie to me again," she said, her lips right by his ear.

"Did you want me to?" he asked curiously.

"Yes."

He turned his head to look at her. "We'll be okay, Hermione."

"What is it you said, the first lie, to try to get me to go?"

This time, Harry kissed her, not even caring that Ron could see. "I'll be okay?" he asked against her lips.

"Do you believe it now?"

"You're still here, aren't you?"

"I'll never leave you."

"Then I'm not lying," he said, kissing her one more time. "I'll be okay."


End file.
